


Soap

by BendyDick



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cleaning, First Meeting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 09:35:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/608369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BendyDick/pseuds/BendyDick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He climbed back into the shower, got the bar wet and went to clean his hair with it. The suds never reached his blond tufts because right as he started the bathroom door flung open and the short Irish man was glaring at him. "What are you doing?" Moriarty hissed, slapping the pink soap away from him. </p><p>"Cleaning up?" Sebastian slurred trying to focus on one of the two men he saw floating in front of him. He probably shouldn't have downed an entire bottle of whiskey before he came with the criminal. </p><p>Moriarty eyed the soap floating in the shower water at the bottom of the tub and rolled his eyes. "There is real soap you know." Sebastian looked confused and glanced about the bath room. "On the walls." His eyes settled on the crystal containers and squinted. He had been using 'real' soap. "Have you never seen soap before?"</p><p>"That's not soap sir..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soap

Three months on the streets left Sebastian covered in dirt and grime. He hadn't even realized how dirty he had become until he was led into Moriarty's pristine flat. Inside he felt like the little kid from the Peanuts who walked around with a dust cloud at his feet. Everything inside was sparkly clean to the point where Sebastian could use a vase as a mirror. It didn't surprise him that the first place he was led to was the bath room where he was quickly told to strip and 'clean up' then locked the door from the outside. Sebastian didn't know why. It was much nicer here and he'd been promised guns, even not drunk off his arse that sounded like a good deal.

The only thing that did surprise him was after he got completely nude and stood in the shower he couldn't seem to find soap. There were plenty of pretty ornate bottles with crystal tops and fragrant smells but no classic white bar soap that the sniper gotten use to showering with since a kid. He had to climb out of the wonderfully warm water, dig in the cabinet under the sink and still the only thing that came close to soap was a clearish pink bar that still had a smell close to roses. But it'd do. 

He climbed back into the shower, got the bar wet and went to clean his hair with it. The suds never reached his blond tufts because right as he started the bathroom door flung open and the short Irish man was glaring at him. "What are you doing?" Moriarty hissed, slapping the pink soap away from him. 

"Cleaning up?" Sebastian slurred trying to focus on one of the two men he saw floating in front of him. He probably shouldn't have downed an entire bottle of whiskey before he came with the criminal. 

Moriarty eyed the soap floating in the shower water at the bottom of the tub and rolled his eyes. "There is real soap you know." Sebastian looked confused and glanced about the bath room. "On the walls." His eyes settled on the crystal containers and squinted. He had been using 'real' soap. "Have you never seen soap before?"

"That's not soap sir..." 

The man didn't seem to like the answer because Sebastian was slapped, pushed to his knees and told to sit still. Above him Moriarty was tutting away about the thick dirt that covered the snipers body and about what soap he should use. He chose a green one that smelt of fake pine and made Sebastian nose burn. He wanted to tell him no, stand up and just walk out. Something in Moriarty's voice kept him down, that and the tight hand on his shoulder. 

"Might want to close your eyes love." Sebastian did and a suds covered his face not long after. The criminal’s hands washed all the way across his chest, his shoulders, back, cheeks, even lips before going lower and scrubbing at his legs. He was told to stand and rinse. It wasn't as embarrassing as it should have been, probably due to years in the army and a blood alcohol level above the legal limit. 

"How are you still dirty?" Moriarty whined once all the little white bubbles were washed away. Sebastian ducked his head ashamed and avoided the dark gaze he was being given. “Sit down, I’ll be back.” He did, settling into the warmth of the water cascading down from the faucet. He was almost asleep when the bathroom door creaked back open and the scent of ocean hit his nose. He opened his eyes and they flew wide when he saw what Moriarty was holding. 

“Please boss, no. Please.” He shook his head back and forth and scurried into the far corner of the tub away from the green dish scroungy, the kind used to get off backed on cooking grease. The man was busy pouring a blue soap over it and didn’t answer Sebastian but when he looked up it was clear he heard. He grabbed the man’s arm and pulled him back to a place he could scour him. 

“Be still. You need to be clean.” Jim hissed when Sebastian pulled away and shook his head. It hurt when it was dragged across his arm, his chest, his neck. It left his skin poufy and red. It burned when the soap filled the abrased skin. He started to whimper as the scroungy got closer to his privates and soon he couldn’t take it and clasped his hands over his jewels and shook his head. 

“No.” 

“Don’t be daft dear, let me clean you.” 

“No.” 

“Sebastian.” Moriarty’s voice had the same quality of a disappointed mother and Sebastian wanted to give in but it hurt. It would hurt there a lot. Even drunk. “One.” The snipers eyes narrowed and he felt like laughing. Counting wasn’t going to work, he might be getting cleaned like a child but he was no- “Two…” His hands left his crotch and he hung his head in shame. He’d heard about the man before him and knew he didn’t want to disappoint James Moriarty. 

Jim scratched Moran’s wet hair and smiled down at him. “There’s a good boy, hands behind your back now.” Sebastian did as told and clasped his hands together behind him. He closed his eyes as if that would help shield him from the pain and humiliation he was about to face. “You don’t have a bad looking prick, you know that?” 

“Thank you boss.” 

Jim cupped his balls first and scrubbed at them. It made Sebastian want to scream and slap the little man as the pad scrapped away his top layer of skin. “Please…” He begged, teeth grinding together in his mouth. “Let me do it…” 

“Oh baby, look at you. No, no I don’t think so, see I don’t know where you have been or who you have let touch you down here. Do you even know?” Sebastian opened his eyes and peered over his grown out blond hair to look at Jim. Honestly he didn’t know. He didn’t think he let anyone touch him, he sort of hoped he didn’t let anyone touch him. “See what I mean? Hopefully this will be a onetime thing.” 

Sebastian didn’t say another word the whole time Jim scrubbed at his junk. It still hurt but he just dug his long nails into his forearms leaving bloody little half-moons by the time the man was satisfied with his work. 

“All done. Rinse.” The water had gone cold. It stung against Sebastian’s raw skin as he stood and washed away the sweet smelling bubbles. When he was finished he turned off the water and waited till Jim handed him a fluffy towel he’d been holding. “I will expect you to know how to wash yourself from now on.” 

“Yes boss.” 

“How do you feel?” 

Sore, hung over, tired. “Hungry.” 

Jim smiled and led Sebastian out of the bathroom, away from the little green scrounge and to the kitchen. Sebastian never figured out why Jim didn’t just show him where the soap was and leave. The more he got to know the man the more he started to think he just wanted a reason to touch his new toy. He could have just asked though, Sebastian was too drunk to care, perhaps that’s why. Sebastian wouldn’t haven remembered being taken into a strange man’s house and fondled, but he certainly remembered having his skin rubbed off. Jim was like that, all theatrics, but that was alright. Sebastian didn’t mind.

**Author's Note:**

> I figured I might as well post it since I took the time to write it. These are the things that go on as I take showers. Yep. Sorry.


End file.
